


Annoyingly Philosophical

by clandestine7



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M, drabbles are unrelated to each other, rating does not apply to all chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:44:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestine7/pseuds/clandestine7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of LaviYuu drabbles - fluff and angst and smut and everything in between, in bite-sized pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Annoyingly Philosophical

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to keep these drabbles on tumblr only but I got mad today that my newest one got filtered out of the tag for having adult content even though all of that was under a read-more, so...looks like I've started a drabble collection! Because I don't write these things for nobody to read them. No update schedule for this, I just write these few-page pieces when the whim comes to me. And since the shorter the piece, the more philosophical I tend to get, I've stuck with the first drabble's title as the whole work title. 
> 
> This first one is a less-idealized, more realistic view of what their relationship might be like, in canon-verse. Somewhat angsty. Rated T.

“Yuuu,” Lavi says, in a way that implies he is going to ask something annoyingly philosophical. He knows this is what Kanda thinks of these questions, and he knows exactly what it takes to signal their approach. His voice has to be grating, dragging out the U.

 _Yuuu, is there really such thing as honor?_   _Yuuu-u, do you think happiness could exist without sadness? Yuu-u-uu, do you believe in the end of the world?_

And Kanda – may God bless his predictable soul – makes a show of rolling his eyes behind his eyelids, but then says like he always does, “What?”

And so Lavi lays his head in Kanda’s lap. He knew Kanda wasn’t actually meditating, and knew Kanda knew  _he_  wasn’t meditating, so he figured it was okay to interrupt.

But, head in Kanda’s lap, a direct view up Kanda’s nostrils, he goes for a question that is more serious than usual. Or less. It’s up to interpretation, and he hasn’t decided himself.

“How do you know when you love someone?”

It is the wrong question, probably, judging from the hard line of Kanda’s mouth. They are always wrong questions – irrelevant, according to Kanda – but this one especially because Kanda seems to be holding his breath. Maybe he hates this one so much he will suffocate himself to death so he never has to deal with another.

It’d be nice, really, if Kanda could have a stray booger up his nose or something. But no, even his nostrils are perfect and Lavi feels somewhat inferior with his one eye and the scars up and down his body that don’t fade. He’s afraid that this is one of those times he’ll be ignored, which is the worst answer of all.

He wants to push, he wants to shove, maybe wants Kanda to whisper it in his ear. But when he imagines this, he just imagines the feeling of Kanda’s breath, no words, and it leaves a shivery feeling between his shoulder blades.

Sometimes he kisses Kanda’s tattoo, and not neatly. He presses his teeth and his tongue, and he feels Kanda’s heart beating, and he hums ( _Mmm;_ it almost sounds like  _Ohm)._ No more than this, though.

Sometimes Kanda’s thumb slips under the strap of his eyepatch, at his opposite cheek at first but it slides steadily over. Lavi always stops him before his thumb can slip beneath the patch itself.

Except there’s a moment this time, when his head is in Kanda’s lap and Kanda’s thumb is on the bridge of his nose, that he thinks he might just let this go all the way, let Kanda’s thumb brush against his hidden eyelashes.

But he realizes Kanda is watching him, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, and it makes his heart lurch uncomfortably. He catches Kanda’s hand before the shiver can erupt from between his shoulder blades and race through all parts of him.

“Sorry,” he says, and Kanda understands and takes his hand away. He never pushes Lavi’s boundaries. But Lavi wants him to push, wants to know what Kanda would say into his ear amidst all that warm breath.

It’s a straight view up Kanda’s nose again.

“Can I stay tonight?” Lavi sometimes asks, sometimes with his head on Kanda’s shoulder, sometimes right after knocking on Kanda’s door. He never stays without Kanda telling him he can.

Sometimes Kanda shows up at  _his_  door, a knock in the middle of the night. Lavi will answer and Kanda will do that thing of crossing his arms and looking away, trying to look grumpy and like Lavi was the one who called him here in the first place, and Lavi will shake his head and breathe out a laugh and say, “You can stay.”

“But only if I get a good night kiss,” he’ll say a few minutes later, with that grin that grates on Kanda’s nerves.

Kanda will make that grumpy face again, and will press the hard line of his mouth to Lavi’s.

“Another,” Lavi will say, grin turned genuine, and he’ll get another close-lipped touch.  _What a brat,_ he’ll think, wondering if the smile is in his eye too.

He’ll touch Kanda’s face and say, “Another.” This time, there will be some give and take. The shivery feeling melts and then warms and then spreads slowly through him. He’ll learn once again that Kanda’s tongue is good for more than just spilling mean words.

After this one he’ll be dazed, and their faces will stay much too close, and he’ll put a thumb on Kanda’s lips and breathe out, “Another.”

Kanda’s hair will be soft against his chin, and Kanda’s mouth will be hot against his neck. Lavi will wait for his head to hit the pillow, for the hand on him, pushing his shirt off of one shoulder. “Okay,” he’ll say, and after a swallow: “That’s enough.” And Kanda won’t push against his boundaries.

They only ever sleep with each other, in the most literal sense. Two bodies warming one bed, and when he wakes up Kanda is always gone no matter what room it is.

He thinks of this as he stares up Kanda’s perfect, cave-like nostrils. His nose tingles. He wants to go back a bit and let Kanda keep going – but how far back? To which dead end does he wish to return?  

“You wish that you’d never met,” Kanda finally says, bringing Lavi back to the present. He looks down at Lavi again, and it feels like he’s looking from a great distance. So composed. “Is that the answer you want?”

Lavi gives a shaky laugh. It is the answer he should have thought of himself; he, who should love no one, who would have made a terrible error if he did. But…

“I don’t know what I want.”

He says this, but he reaches anyway, takes hold of some of that showy bit of hair that Kanda keeps out of his ponytails even though it’s long enough to tie up. He gives a gentle tug, and Kanda bends a little. Lavi has to make up the rest of the distance, propping himself against Kanda’s knee, leaning up.  

He hesitates when Kanda’s breath touches his mouth, and says “Another” to cover it up.

So he gets another, and another, and another. He gets into Kanda’s lap, gets over it, straddles it. He listens to the encouraging sound Kanda makes, that rumbling hum, lets it move through him like a slow-moving wave. It threatens to uproot him completely – he is being possessed by something that is not himself, that is taking all control from him – so he pulls back and looks for Kanda’s eyes.

He needs – needs to know – needs to see – understand –

“I won’t say it if you won’t,” Kanda says. His eyes are narrowed but they give nothing away. When Lavi takes too long, he shuts them again and leans back in.

Lavi thinks,  _That’s not how it’s supposed to work. It’s not a mind game, is it?_

In the end, he lets Kanda push his shirt off of his shoulder, lets Kanda suck on the scar there and hold onto his hips. And he touches Kanda’s stomach and sides and collarbones in fleeting little brushes of his fingertips, and eventually wraps his arms around Kanda’s neck. The words in his head are  _hot, hard,_ and  _nice_.

But this is just physicality, this feeling of wanting to press himself right out of his skin and into Kanda’s. But love doesn’t matter much anyway. Doesn’t matter at all, actually.

“And now?” Kanda says against his throat, with a nip of teeth that makes Lavi cling tighter, face in Kanda’s hair. 

Kanda’s thumbs promise to dip into the waistband of Lavi’s pants if allowed, and Lavi shakes his head, eye shut, body hot hard and nice, and says, “Sorry.”


	2. All Day Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's set in some happier AU. Lavi's blind in his right eye but doesn't wear an eye patch (will somebody please draw this one day). Smut and fluff, because I can't do smut without fluff. Rated M. (lbr, my style is to allude to smut as erotically as possible without being explicit)

A clap of thunder wakes Lavi up. The room is gloomy, gray to the corners.

“Finally up?” Kanda says.

Lavi stretches his arms over his head, touches the wall. The toes of his right foot brush against Kanda’s, and he nudges them together. He scrubs his hands through his hair, then his palms over his face. Tired noises gutter their way out of him.

“How late is it?” he finally says, turning toward Kanda, who is propped on his side and looks at him with much amusement, hair well slept on.

“It’s late.”

Thunder rumbles, sounding like it is right overhead. Lavi’s tongue is still heavy in his mouth.

“Well, I’m not goin’ out in this shitty weather. Whattaya wanna do all day long, Yuu?”

Kanda touches his stomach, fingers brushing across his skin right above the line of the blanket. Lavi can tell he’s in one of his sly moods, wearing a smile that says he is planning things. A hunch that is confirmed when Kanda says, “You.”

Doing him all day means slow and deliberate in their bed, Lavi whining for Kanda to hurry up and Kanda huffing a laugh against his throat and saying, “No.” Lavi’s toes curl, and Kanda tells him to make noise, nobody will hear him over the storm, so he does.

Doing him all day is also: him waking up again some time later, and Kanda brushing the hair off of his forehead and looking very smug and saying, “Are you hungry yet?”

It is breakfast without bothering to get dressed, the heater  _whoosh_ ing through the vents. Lavi feels lazy, and, delightfully, Kanda does too. Lavi has to hold pieces of toast with jam up to his mouth and say, “Open up, Yuu. No sleeping at the dining table.”

Kanda opens his mouth for the pieces of toast, and sometimes he takes in Lavi’s fingers too, giving them a slow suck before letting them go. His eyes say exactly what he is hungry for.

It is quick and rough against the kitchen counter, Lavi’s elbows on the granite and his head bowed, his legs trembling, Kanda at his back and holding him up and telling him that he is  _So. Damn. Good._

It is washed hands rubbing warm washcloths down each other’s bodies, and Lavi trying not to laugh because his sides are ticklish, and then discovering the massive knot in Kanda’s hair, close to his nape where it is especially soft.

After tackling that – and after tackling Kanda’s complaining that “You’re being too rough” and “You’re just ripping it out” – Lavi shaves off his overnight stubble and flashes his reflection a grin. Kanda stands in his blind spot and rolls his eyes, but:

“Yuu, you’re a fucking idiot, I’m looking in a  _mirror._ ”

It is a jar of jam they will no longer eat from, and Lavi’s fingers sticky, and Kanda’s chest and stomach stickier.

“What the hell are you drawing?” Kanda says, trying to act grumpy, though his fingers twitch against the seat of his chair.

Lavi shrugs and says, “I dunno,” and starts erasing his finger painting with his tongue. And once he’s finished with that, he puts his hands on Kanda’s thighs and pushes them open farther, and ducks his head once again. Kanda casts off all pretenses, and lets out a deep-throated groan as he slumps down to enjoy it.

It is Kanda backing him into the shower wall and kissing him – his mouth, his neck, his shoulders – while holding his hips gently, hands not wandering.

“Yuu?” Lavi says. Kanda might say “Shh,” or it might be the hush of the water. Kanda kisses him more, making Lavi shiver, or it might be the cool of the wall tiles. Or it might be Kanda’s teeth when he grins against Lavi’s skin. The water rushes. They are blissfully wasteful today.

It is Kanda winding up a towel, but not too tightly, and smacking his bare ass with it, but not too hard. Lavi whoops with laughter, chasing Kanda through the flat with his own towel while he drips water onto the floors. He runs Kanda around the couch, and this is where Kanda catches his towel and yanks him close, and then wraps him up in it and says, “I win.”

It is Kanda’s naked meditation while Lavi naked dances around the kitchen, feeling especially inspired by all their time in it today. The cookies he makes – and this is a first – turn out  _perfect._

“This rain sure isn’t letting up, is it?” Lavi says, mouth full of chocolate chips, when Kanda comes in looking all relaxed and serene, like he always does after he meditates.

“Hm,” Kanda says, coming up behind him and propping his chin on his shoulder, pulling him close.

“Hungry?” Lavi says, holding up a cookie.

“Mm,” Kanda says, meaning ‘No.’

“ _Hungry?”_ Lavi says, pitching his voice lower and grinning.

Kanda chuckles and says, “Mm,” still meaning ‘No.’ His arms get a little bit tighter around Lavi, and Lavi eats cookies and enjoys the warmth of Kanda’s body against his back.  

“I’m hungry now,” Kanda says later, a molten look in his eyes. They are back on the bed, and he holds Lavi’s wrists to the mattress. His hair tumbles loose and Lavi would like his hands to be free so he could twist his fingers into it.

“Leave my ass alone,” Lavi says, and he can’t hold back a snicker. “It’s tired.”

Kanda snorts quietly, the cunning look on his face for a moment becoming nothing but fond.

It’s a moment long enough for Lavi to work his hands free, take Kanda’s hair, and pull him down. They get tangled in the blankets, touching and laughing, and then sighing, eyelids fluttering, breath going harsh and then satisfied.

It is a day wasted, languidly, happily, while the rain patters on.


End file.
